THE last time I said I was stopping eating chocolate, Chris laughed at me. ‘You’ll never be able to do it,’ he said. ‘Never in a million years.’
I wasn’t happy with his response. ‘What do you mean I won’t be able to do it?’
He laughed a bit more. ‘You’ll not.’
‘If I want to stop I’ll stop,’ I may have been shouting. ‘It is NOT a problem.’
‘It is,’ Chris stopped laughing. ‘You’re addicted to it.’
Addicted to chocolate? Me? Chris clearly didn’t know what he was talking about.
‘I’m not!’ I looked down at the family bar of Dairy Milk in my hand, and waved it in his face. ‘I’ll do it.’ And I meant it. I put the chocolate back in the fridge. ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘I’m not eating it again.’
I lasted until 4pm the next day. And then my cravings kicked in and I just had to eat some chocolate. ‘I told you,’ Chris said.
‘I felt faint,’ was my only response. Normal chocolate-eating soon resumed.
Just recently, I’ve become aware of how much chocolate I actually eat. It’s an awful lot. My cousin posted on Facebook about having a Flake as a treat. She was only having one bar. One normal sized bar. I don’t eat anything less than family size these days. This might be why I’ve gained half a stone, and why I no longer fit into my wedding dress.
For health reasons, I have decided to take action. I’m not going to give up chocolate for the rest of my life, but I am going to cut back.
I am delighted to report that I went a full day yesterday without even looking at a bar of chocolate.
Today I’ve bought several boxes of Thornton’s chocolates for Christmas presents, but haven’t bought any for myself. I’d normally get a bag of something while I’m in the shop, but I didn’t. I resisted.
‘That’s willpower,’ I said to Chris.
He smiled. ‘I’ll give you until the end of the week.’
‘One day at a time,’ I said.